Must've Been Lost
by TheNameIsErronBlack
Summary: Princess Allura helps Pidge regarding her feelings for Lance.
1. Chapter 1

For the most part, Pidge liked her comrades. Despite their hang-ups and frequent sessions of infighting, they were amicable, willing to go the distance for others, and more than capable in a fight.

This tepid affection did not extend completely to Lance, however.

It wasn't that she wanted to send him into the vacuum of space, at least not all the time, but he certainly frustrated her far more than any other human being in the galaxy. Sure, he was an excellent pilot and marksman, but he was also an inconsiderate, obnoxious dolt who hit on any organic lifeform with a pair of boobs, probably because he himself was a boob.

But, for the time being, the two were bound by fate.

It all started when they were sent on a mission to a foreign planet to retrieve something of value for Princess Allura. Buried somewhere in the depths of the forest was some ancient Gallaran text Princess Allura insisted was of some significance, though the exact justification for such escaped Pidge. While they had managed to accomplish their task with relative ease, their supply of luck had swiftly diminished as they found themselves held at gun-point by a gang of marauding pirates, Pidge assumed, were after the same treasure. Thankfully, before she was forced to relinquish it, Lance had managed to set off a stun grenade, giving the two Paladins the opportunity to escape. While fleeing, they found themselves in the midst of massive rainstorm, and found shelter in a cave. It was hardly the most pleasant of accommodations, but it would do for the brief time the two were sequestered on this bizarre planet. After they had exited their armor in an attempt to increase their comfort and calm their nerves, Pidge made the unfortunate discovery that the planet's tropical climate was below her preferred temperature. She wrapped her arms around herself to maintain what little warmth her body had left.

"Pidge, what's wrong?" Lance, of course, was quick to question Pidge about every minute problem she encountered.

"Nothing. It's fine." Her teeth chattered all the while, defying her words.

Unconvinced, but not wanting to aggravate her, he simply gave her a skeptical look. "If you insist," Knowing that Pidge was not one who wanted seem needy, he decided to use his trademark sarcastic wit in order to change the subject. "You have the right idea. We're basically on vacation, may as well enjoy it."

She turned to face him to find he had followed her lead and disembarked from his armor, allowing himself a stretch and a satisfied groan. "You know, if not for being stuck in a cave hiding from a bunch of blood-thirsty mercenaries, I could get use to this."

Silence. He had at least hoped for a snarky retort about his lack of intelligence.

"Pidge?"

She didn't process what he said. She couldn't do much of anything outside of gawk at him. He wasn't exactly a hulking, amorphous mass like Hunk or Shiro, but it was clear that his time with the Garrison and their present endeavor had empirically improved his already above-average physique.

In other, less eloquent words: he was hot.

Once the thought entered her mind, she re-entered her horrible, nightmarish reality. "Why do you not have a shirt on?" She nearly screamed.

Lance, cheeks burning, backed away from her and held his hands in front of him as if to preemptively fight off her assault. "I didn't bring one! H-having a shirt on in the armor feels weird!"

Pidge liked to think that she was mostly immune to being flustered, but she presently felt as if she was going to lose what few brain cells had not yet been eroded by Lance.

"What are...why are you so!" Her mind presented the word "hot" in bold, neon letters. "Why are you so weird?"

Still blushing from her scrutiny, he gave a nervous smile. "Hey, comfort enhances my ability to save the universe."

Her frustration having somewhat overtaken her nervousness, she rolled her eyes and shifted away from Lance. Perhaps the cold could calm her anxiety even further. "You are such a tool. Actually, scratch that, tools are usef-"

Before Pidge could conclude the thought, thunder barreled its way overhead, and its retribution forced her to leap against her willpower. Her response to her newfound terror led her to grip on to Lance for dear life.

"Pidge, are you alright?" He frantically asked. Strangely enough, Pidge's current course of action surprised and terrified him far more than the sudden burst of thunderous retribution. She squeezed him with strength far greater than her frame gave away.

"T-thunder," She said more so to his chest than to himself. "Can you please just hold me until it stops?"

Lance had never seen Pidge so petrified. Normally, a temporary moment of weakness would necessitate banter, but he wanted to assuage her terror any way he could. "Of course, of course," Something primal compelled him to gently caress her hair, mostly to comfort her, but he didn't want to press his luck. "Let's just lie down. Is that okay?"

She barely made a nod. Holding on to her as if she were composed of glass, Lance ever-so-gently set his body on the base of the cave. He wasn't exactly thrilled to be lying in dirt, being the neat-nick that he was, but his desire to care for Pidge far overpowered any of that. Plus, having the exceptionally warm and soft body gripping him and burying her face into his neck was a small price to pay. She smelled really good.

"This ain't that bad, eh?"

A deeply uncomfortable thought had been thrust to the forefront of Pidge's mind now that she found herself glommed onto Lance: she wanted to put her hands back on Lance abs.

"Pidge?"

She looked up at him. "Yes?"

"I think the, uh, thunder stopped."

Pidge's eyes went wide as she realized he was correct. "Right!" She leapt up and dusted herself off. He took small comfort in the knowledge that she was blushing about as much as he was.

"Just...please don't tell the others that I have a thing about...thunder. And, y'know," She gestured with her hands in an attempt to accentuate her point. "The other stuff."

Again, Lance felt an insatiable urge to make a snarky comment about the normally fearless Pidge being rendered somewhat diffident, but he settled for a grin and a comforting "Don't worry about it."

After several seconds of sullen silence and awkward eye contact, Lance broke the void: "Pidge, can I ask you something?"

He sounded deathly serious, which was exceptionally rare for him. Regardless, Pidge stared straight into his eyes "Yeah?"

"Uh, this is a weird question..." His voice exposed more than a bit of timidity for someone who gave the outward appearance of a regular casanova. "Okay, no, this is a really weird question, but I can tell you're really cold. And don't even try to deny that you are, you're really, really cold, and I think...I think..."

She earnestly had no idea what was going to happen.

"I think we should huddle up for warmth."

Once again referring to the all-knowing power of objectivity, it made sense to have corporal entities in close proximity to one another in an effort to conserve internal warmth, particularly in exceptionally cold areas, but there was absolutely no way, in the lowest concentric circle of the demonic realm, would she ever, in a million lifetimes, ever _cuddle_ with Lance. Especially when he didn't have a shirt on. She would sooner allow herself to freeze to death than to even go near him.

"Did...did you just ask if you could _cuddle_ with me?"

He looked utterly mortified. "N-no, Pidge! I swear, I only want to do it for you!"

Seeing his expression, even Pidge felt her reaction had been a bit cruel. Lance, though a complete idiot with zero social skills, clearly had nothing but the best of intentions, but she was still indignant at his buffoonery. How dare he fluster her like that.

"Fine, fine. Let's do it. But if you tell anyone about this, I will murder you in your sleep."

Lance's smile was a bit wider than usual. "Deal."

Once again, like a true gentleman, Lance opted to lay himself down on the jagged surface, allowing Pidge to plop on top of him. He felt a surge of thrill in his spine as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Similarly, Pidge, though she would deny it to the end, was troubled by how much she was enjoying the present state of affairs. She felt something warm and pleasant radiate throughout her chest.

"Doesn't seem like the rain is gonna let up anytime soon, so feel free to fall asleep and I'll wake you up when it's done."

"And what if those psychos finds us in here?"

"That's why I'll be up and alert, silly."

"That's quite comforting." She sarcastically drolled.

And so, Pidge, draped over a shirtless Lance, promptly fell asleep.

* * *

Lance, as he so often did, found himself in a bit of a conundrum.

On the one hand, the rain storm had let up some time ago, but Pidge was still firmly entrenched in the land of dreams. He had made a promise to wake her up once they could get going, but she seemed so comfortable that he didn't wanted to interrupt her impromptu nap. The sound of her gentle breathing, the rise and fall of her chest, she looked so peaceful.

And even though he would never tell her this for fear of losing an extremity, she looked rather cute. She liked to come off as tough-as-nails, but that didn't stop Pidge from being cute as a puppy. Right now, she was downright adorable. Lance would probably squeeze her if it wouldn't wake her up.

Still, they couldn't stay there forever when any number of alien horrors could come roaring through and interrupt their bliss, so, in the name of compromise, he would carry her. It wasn't that long of a walk and Pidge barely weighed anything, so after carefully regaining his balance, he took off, with the green paladin still sound asleep.

* * *

Pidge, after being confused as to how she had woken up in familiar surroundings, was, to put it modestly, very, very angry. As was generally the case, Lance was the target of her acrimony. The moronic, pig-headed, brain-cell deficient _idiot_ bereft of even a modicum of common sense had carried her home like she was the protagonist of some cheesy, horribly written romance story. What cruel, omnipotent, endlessly sadistic force had caused their paths to merge inexorably? What unnatural affliction possessed Lance to torture her the way he did? Would she soon lose every scrap of sanity he had not yet destroyed through his abject stupidity? As she pondered such pertinent queries, she sealed herself in her room, as far away from Lance as she could get. She considered throwing herself into her work to take her mind away from blinding, all-encompassing rage, but she made almost no progress on whatever project she was going to complete beyond a title (The title being _GFY_Lance_ ). She wasn't sure what she wanted to do, only that it had to be something other than allowing Lance to have even more space in her head than the more than slightly worrying amount he had at present.

A knock at her door. If it was anyone other than Keith, they would swiftly meet their demise. "What?" She made no effort to hide her disgust.

"Pidge? May I come in to talk?" The muffled voice was that of Princess Allura.

This was a conundrum. On the one hand, Pidge had zero desire to discuss anything with Allura at the moment, but the princess had done nothing to warrant anger. "Yes."

Having received permission, she took a seat on the side of Pidge's bed. If it had been anyone else, the insults would've started flying long ago. "Forgive my intrusion, but I wish to speak with you."

Her heart sunk. There could be only one thing on the her mind.

"I wish to talk with you regarding your time with Lance, for it has come to my attention that there is a custom among female humans in which they reserve time for the discussion of such acerbic matters; I believe it is colloquially referred to as 'girl talk'".

Oh, no. No, no, no, no. "No. No way this is happening." She slammed her laptop shut.

"I do not wish to make overstep my boundaries, Pidge, I only wish for you to purge yourself of any negative emotions, for it was easy to determine that you were quite upset and such emotions hold the potential to become fatal when not discussed with those you can trust."

There was no point in resisting. Allura had a way of relieving anxiety in those around her, and Pidge felt as if her thoughts about Lance were going to force their way out of her if she didn't expel them herself. She let out a deep sigh of resignation before beginning.

* * *

"I see." Allura had listened intently as Pidge had fully recounted the tale with far more detail than she initially wished to provide. Shyness was not something she was acquainted with, even when it came to discussing Lance in this way, but she found it impossible to meet Allura's eyes.

"At present, you find yourself deeply frustrated by Lance."

"Yeah."

"And although you were severely upset by him, there is a part of you that was grateful, yes?"

That forced eye contact "What?"

It was more or less the reaction she had hoped for. "I was under the impression you paradoxically also appreciated Lance's kindness."

Pidge squinted at her. "What are you implying?"

The princess couldn't help but allow a subtle smirk to emerge. "I would be grateful if someone did that for me, considering the discomfort that comes with lying prone and shirtless on a cave floor and the difficulty of not abruptly waking them while walking."

Some of the previously subdued rage resurfaced in her stomach. "What are you implying?"

Her subtle smirk evolved into a devilish grin. "Nothing. I'm merely pointing out that Lance acted like a gentleman."

Now she was blushing. "No. He's an idiot, and you're wrong for implying he could ever be anything other than that."

"There is nothing wrong with admitting that Lance is not as terrible as you make him out to be. He is an excellent pilot, a caring friend..."

"Alright."

"He is also exceptionally handsome. His face is properly portioned and symmetrical, not to mention his physique…"

"Alright! I admit it! I like him!" Utterly drained from energy from the the day's events and Allura's prodding, Pidge cut loose and screamed out her best kept secret to the universe. "Are you happy?"

She certainly was; she practically beamed.

"What gave it away?" No point in backing down now.

"The way your gaze would linger upon him coupled with the manner in which your cheeks would inflame often in his presence, I was all but certain you felt something for him beyond friendship."

"Oh, _no_."

"Yes! Precisely like that!"

Pidge, more than almost anything in that moment, wished that a black hole would materialize from the ether and take her far away from this putrid, miserable existence. "Please don't tell anyone else."

"Oh, Pidge, of course not! But I demand to know when you will inform of Lance of the good news."

Now she was confused. "What good news?"

"The good news that you reciprocate his affection and are willing to at last beginning a romantic relationship."

The mere mention was enough to make Pidge's gaze dart away. "I-I can't."

"Why not?"

Pidge looked around for a few seconds as if trying to discover an answer inscribed in the walls of her domicile before settling for a noncommittal: "Because…"

She put her hands on her shoulders "Pidge, whether you doubt yourself or the fact that Lance cares for you in a similar way, I will make it my duty to endow you with the courage to present your affection to him. Whatever I can do for you, I will."

For the first time in a while, Pidge genuinely smiled. "Thanks."

Allura also smiled at Pidge's happiness and her agreeing to the plan. "Excellent! First, as a simple exercise, I shall pretend to be Lance, and you shall pretend to be yourself as we simulate you asking him out on a date."

As quickly as it arrived, her smile was gone. "You can't be serious."

"Greetings, Pidge! It is I, your comrade and good friend, Lance. Did you have something to ask me?"

Pidge could only think to herself: _"This is gonna suck"._


	2. Chapter 2

As much as Pidge loved to hurl venomous vitriol at her compatriots at regular intervals, she privately conceded that she was also susceptible to the bounds of mortality, fallibility, and stupidity. Most of her self-loathing stemmed from her 'crush' on Lance. (Allura insisted on referring to it as a 'crush' as opposed to her preferred term: 'affliction') She wasn't sure what mystical force from beyond the veil of reality planted the idea in her mind that Lance was anything other than abjectly awful. He was an obnoxious dolt who went out of his way to make an ass out of himself and piss off his teammates to no end. How, in the most far removed phylum of existence, could _she_ be into someone like _him_?

Allura only made things worse. Ever since her confession, she would constantly catch Allura subtly smirking at her whenever Lance would make some dimwitted comment and once elbowed her in the stomach after he made some quip about using her sex appeal to seduce hostile aliens. She wasn't sure which party she wanted to brutally murder first. Perhaps there existed a possibility wherein she could use one's body to beat the other to death.

"I must say, Miss Gunderson, Allura's faith in your squad has been well placed. A few more training exercises, and you might just have a chance at supplanting my level of skill."

"Let's hope so, for the sake of everyone else," Pidge had done her best to avoid Allura's constant pestering about their shared knowledge. Despite Coran somewhat abrasive personality, recent events had made him a paragon of social etiquette, particularly in relation those in her immediate surrounding. "It's not like we have to-"

"Oh, hey. Sorry, guys, having a bit of a fashion emergency here."

Pidge was someone who liked to keep others at arm's length. She recognized that other people had their own share of emotional baggage, but one fear that consistently festered inside of her was looking weak or unstable in front of her contemporaries. She was a pilot on a quest to save the universe from an empire of amoral thugs, meaning emotions had little room for thought. Worse than that, however, was revealing that she could in fact be flustered, and having Lance take his shirt off in front of her gave her the Blue Screen of Death.

"I took a shower, then suddenly all my shirts are gone, but don't worry about me, I'll hunt down the culprit if it's with my dying breath."

Lance would often pull this stunt at the Garrison. He would strut around with a towel on his waist, his firm chest open for the world to revel in its glory. While it was terrible when he did it then, his current augmented muscular stature made it dread incarnate.

She had to be grateful he never managed to drop it.

"Ah, a mystery! One not unlike those by the human author Arthur Conan Doyle!" Coran was clearly excited by the possibility of assisting Lance. "I shall be the Watson to Lance's Sherlock Holmes!"

Lance smiled at Coran's enthusiasm. "Or the Robin to my Batman!"

The comment made something in Coran's brain go haywire, as his gaze was fixated on the petrified Pidge. "Oh my goodness…" He whispered.

"Hey, no problem. You can totally be Superma-"

"THE SLIPPERIES!"

The two Paladins incredulously looked at him.

"Not to worry, my dear friends, there is a simple solution: Lance, I would request that you refrain from removing your shirt around Miss Gunderson, for it clearly induces The Slipperies on the poor girl. Just look at her!"

They at last made eye contact. It was only under his scrutiny that she became self-conscious of the fact that she was in fact perspiring.

Curiously, Lance now appeared he was taken over by a similar illness. "Oh," He squeaked out. "S-sorry, Pidge. I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. From now on, it's all shirt, all the time." He concluded the joke with a nervous smile.

Suddenly, the possibility of never seeing Lance's stomach again mortified her.

* * *

Pidge was certainly not what one would call anti-social, but she also deeply valued personal space. Her room was like her fortress that protected her from the tendrils of the negative aspects of life. Here, she was free to do as she pleased. She could listen to music, work on her tech, and lament over Lance totally ignoring her in peace. One wouldn't think of her as the type to brood over a guy she liked, but that itself was sort of the problem. No one _ever_ saw her as the type who _would_ like a guy. It betrayed her persona to an extent, but what was so wrong with her harboring feelings for Lance? The others didn't give him credit, but he had a great deal of positive qualities; he was sweet, funny, far smarter than even he would admit, and, yes, exceptionally handsome.

Whatever. It didn't matter. She would take a nap and find something to take her mind off of things aft-

 _Knockknockknock_ "Pidge?"

There was no point in kicking this can down the road. She came to realize that Allura's persistence was endless, particularly when it came to this, for whatever bizarre reason.

"Yeah."

Allura and her brilliant smile swiftly made their way right up to the side of Pidge's bed. "Permit me to preemptively inform you that I require no thanks for the theft of Lance's clothing."

Pidge could only shrug. "Yeah."

The Princess arched an eyebrow. "It was my understanding you enjoyed it greatly when Lance removed his clothing. If I recall correctly, the precise verbiage you employed was 'hotter than a blue star in a furnace'. If you would prefer, I can steal his pants next ti-"

"No!" Pidge was grateful Coran wasn't around at present, as even the thought of Allura going ahead with such a plan of action gave her the most debilitating case of The Slipperies yet experienced by an organic lifeform. "I appreciate everything you've done, but I think it would be great if you just forgot all about this. Lance certainly has."

"I don't understand. You are seemingly implying that Lance is not attracted to you."

"I had to _tell him_ that I was a girl." She wasn't sure if Lance was that thick-headed or she really was that unattractive, but after that disaster, Pidge concluded that the only way she could get Lance to consider her as a potential partner was thrusting her boobs directly in his gormless face.

That oh-so punchable smile reemerged. "I believe you will be quite pleased with a conversation I had with Lance earlier…"

* * *

"Lance! You will be quite pleased to hear I have located your lost shirt!" Following his chance encounter with Pidge and Corran, Allura mercifully handed Lance his shirt.

"Ah, you're the best, Princess," The compliment was muffled as Lance's head manoeuvred through the maze. "I know the ladies of the galaxy will be upset, but we've gotta have manners."

The time to strike arrived. "I assume Pidge is included among them."

The mere mention of Pidge clearly sapped a portion of his boisterous confidence. "Guh, well, actually, I don't think she was too happy with me walking around like that. Kinda why I'll be on my best behavior from now on."

She couldn't help but smile wickedly at her gentle deception. It was amazing how the two failed so spectacularly at deducing what everyone else already knew. "I was informed by Coran that your stomach gave Pidge a dreadful case of The Slipperies. Would you not consider that a good thing?"

As she hoped, the path of the conversation was clearly flustering Lance. "Why would I want to do that? I really like Pidge, and I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to he-" He instantly slammed his hands against his mouth to silence himself.

* * *

Pidge's heart grinded to a halt as her brain attempted to comprehend the information presented before her. "He...he really said that?" She still couldn't quite believe the words that just exited her form. "He _likes_ me?"

Allura nodded. "And, as you requested, I will now forget about this. Given all the information you now know for certain, I firmly believe you have the courage and strength to confront Lance with your feelings."

She was indeed certain of her plan of action. "After a nap."

* * *

After an extensive nap followed by a brief search, Pidge found her target, staring into the vastness of space. The culmination of months of mental and emotional turmoil and preparation would soon come to past. Assuming Allura wasn't attempting to maliciously deceive her, Lance would be receptive to the prospect of her proffering her affection, but even that rock-solid logic coupled with her proclivity for empirical research did very little to quench the anxiety that made her stomach dance. She couldn't even figure out how to open up the conversation. Make some glib remark regarding his perceived lack of social graces? Pretend she just so happen to stumble upon him by happenstance? Scream her feelings to the void of eternal darkn-

"Pidge!" Lance was startled beyond belief by her sudden appearance. "What, uh, what's up with you?"


	3. Chapter 3

Given that they frequently found themselves combating alien horrors from the deepest, darkest veils of space, the ability to quickly and decisively respond to any given danger was absolutely paramount among the Paladins training. While Pidge's razor sharp wit guided her through almost every situation, she was at present utterly petrified. Experience with a bit of timidity around Lance was not an unusual circumstance, but her usual array of witticisms felt fine with staying taking a lovely stroll through the circuitous route of her mind, stopping to have an extended conversation with her ability for coherent thought and speech.

"So, uh, how are you doin'?" The only thing that mollified her nightmarish anxiety was that Lance looked as absolutely terrified as she did. He rubbed the back of his neck as he waited for Pidge to respond to his query.

"So I-"

"Hey! Great talk! I'll catch ya around!" Lance gave her a half-hearted salute before she could conclude the thought and promptly power-walked away. He broke into a sprint as soon as he was at the door.

* * *

After Lance sprinted away, Pidge decided to follow his trail. She would no longer allow fear to bind her. It was time to settle the score. For goodness sake, she piloted a mechanized lion and fought an intergalactic empire for a living; confessing her feelings to the guy she liked would be a prolonged walk through a beach by comparison.

"Lance!" She knocked abrasively three times, demanding entry. "We need to talk."

"Uh, I don't think now is such a great time, Pidge. You wanna come back later?"

No. Delaying this momentous confrontation would only solidify her status as a coward. She would kill this black-hearted beast if it killed her in the process.

"It can't wait, Lance. Either you come out or I'm coming in."

Silence. "I'm really thinking later would be a super great ti-"

With every ounce of willpower, Pidge threw the door to Lance's room open and found herself face-to-face with a totally nude Lance.

Mercifully, his hands were covering his crotch.

* * *

Pidge waited outside Lance's room for the Blue Paladin to get a proper change of clothes. It was true that the idea of Lance without copious amounts of clothing crossed her mind on more than one occasion, but bursting into his room like that was hardly her ideal scenario. She didn't consider what her ideal scenario exactly was, but it certainly wasn't that.

Still, she had a rather nice mental picture. A more supple examination of Lance's physique was the primary factor, but there was the added bonus of his look of mortification. Once you got over the context and profound humiliation they both experienced, it was pretty funny.

At last, he exited his domicile, greeting his partner in universe-saving with a weak smile. "Hey there," He looked as if he immediately regretted greeting her with such terminology. "Do you wanna talk about…" He was paralyzed hunting for the correct words this time. "Stuff?"

Pidge thought he nailed it. "Yeah."

She stood to face him as Lance rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"So, right off the bat, totally sorry about the whole 'being naked' thing," His face lit up again. "Hunk told me I had to look somewhat fancy to get with someone like you," He had decided on his traditional attire rather than making Pidge wait an indeterminate amount of time meticulously going through his wardrobe. "Gah, I mean confess my feelings to! Not get with! Cuz you're way smarter and prettier and classier than, like, ninety-nine point nine percent of all females in the universe," He looked satisfied with his explanation, but snapped back to unmitigated horror as he truly realized what he just said. "Oh, God." He bashfully turned away from her.

Pidge couldn't quite comprehend what was happening. "You...you really like me?"

"Yes!" He exclaimed! "Man, that feels good to say to someone other than Hunk, No, wait, gotta get back on track. You're, like, the coolest girl ever. You're smart, hilarious, an awesome pilot, and super cute. No, wait, I don't mean like something small, it's just that you're really, really pretty, and I'm using cute as a synonym for you being supermodel gorgeous. I wanted to tell you all of this since forever ago, but I was way to scared to g-"

Before Lance could get another word in, Pidge pounced on him, crashing her lips against his. Her meager strength somehow managed to topple him.

* * *

Not long after the commencement of their relationship, Pidge frequently used Lance as an impromptu chair. Typically, she would simply plop herself in Lance's lap without a great deal of discussion and return to business as usual. Lance, being the perpetual gentleman that he was and simply enjoying being close to Pidge, never interfered with her process, although he did frequently play with her hair. She would never admit it, but he knew she _loved_ having her hair played with.

"Pidge, I'm borrrrred." He wrapped his arms around her stomach and pulled her into him.

"Not now, Lance." She continued dabbling with her laptop, unabated.

"Do something with meeeeeee." He playfully whined. The mere act of cuddling with Pidge was indeed perfect enough as it was, but she had been messing around with her laptop all day with almost zero acknowledgement of her dutiful boyfriend beyond menacing him with a soul-piercing scowl of contempt when he took his hands away from her hair.

There was only one way to force her out of her current state: testing her ego.

"Well, I guess you're just gonna have to admit that you're basically admitting that I am better than you at video games." He smiled to himself as Pidge promptly shut her laptop and stood to retrieve controllers for the two of them. He conceded that the chasmic skill gap between him and Pidge in Super Smash Brothers would only be closed by either hundreds of hours of practice or a miracle, but playing video games with her was always a treat. Plus, she always carried him to victory when they teamed up. They always picked the green team, naturally.

She handed him his designated controller and fell right back into her usual spot as Lance conceived a rather devious idea.

"Why don't we make this two out of three more interesting?"

She turned, eyeing him skeptically. "What did you have in mind?"

He smiled that knowing smile he was known for. "Winner has to give the loser a kiss."

"Oh, you're on."


End file.
